


Bed Rocked Too Hard

by Sofronia



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Can that be an official tag?, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, I typed this up in like fifteen minutes, More Domestic!Tale for you, Sans got dat bread yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:04:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sofronia/pseuds/Sofronia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why are there so many beds to choose from?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed Rocked Too Hard

You and Sans **really** needed to invest in a new bed.

It wasn't in the budget just yet, seeing as you were a month away from paying the new living room suit off, but it was definitely happening. Not only was there a lack of firmness in it, but it also had a tendency to move and squeak rather loudly; especially during sex. Considering you did have neighbors on your floor, it could be kind of embarrassing to fetch your mail and have Mr. Lexington inquire on how you're not limping. A sweet man and long time confidant, but you would much rather he not give Sans knowing smiles and stupid thumb ups.

Going through the many pages of a Sears catalogue, glasses pushed up on your nose, you contemplated over various sizes, designs, brands and prices. You were seated at the kitchen table with an ashen ball of fluff on your lap; bookmarking possibilities here and there. It was a rather quiet night, besides the low murmur of Sans' music playing from the living room and soft rumble of heat from the vents. Frisk and Papyrus were off to visit Alphys and Undyne, just to check up on how they've been adjusting to their new house. The last one suffered some...fire damage, so to speak, but it was still within the insurance policy in the case of accidental fires. 

"Hey, sweet cheeks? C'mere for a second!" You called, clicking on the current bed you had your eye on. 

From the living room came a yawning Sans, dressed only in a white shirt and his normal shorts and slippers. He draped his arms over your bare shoulders and gently laid his chin atop the bun on your head, sockets gazing down at the screen. As he overlooked the features— _Firm, Low-Bounce, Body Temperature Regulated, Padded sheet cover, Five Year warranty_ —a thought came to mind, considering the size you had selected. "It looks good, but how is it even gonna get through the door?"

Your eyebrow cocked up, head tilting back to give him an incredulous stare. "Did you up and forget you can teleport, bonehead?"

He actually gave a slow blink before laughing into your hair. Jesus, what a loveable idiot.

"Alright, but the frame is metal."

Now it was your turn to blink. "Yeees?"

Sans leaned down to press his teeth to your ear, chuckling softly and sending that unwilling shudder down your spine.

"We tend to uh... _Shake, rattle and roll_ when it comes to the bed, babe, remember?"

A deep sigh left your lips, followed by a sideways head butt to his temple. "Come on, you bonehead, I'm serious. Besides, we can just pick a different frame, but I'd like to go on and get the paperwork done. The payments aren't going to take much; maybe seventy a month. I can—."

"Nah, I'll just pay it up front. W-whoa! Breathe!!"

You had sputtered on the apple juice you had been sipping on, immediately choking at his casual suggestion of paying himself. Totalled together, it was around fifteen hundred dollars; the delivery fee not yet calculated. Coughing heavily, Sans brought his hand to throat and instantly the cool touch of his magic soothed the fit. You sighed in relief and loomed up at him, glasses slightly askew and eyes widened, but he only grinned wider.

"I know wha'cha gonna say, but I don't wanna hear it, doll-face. You like makin' you're own way, and I respect how hard you work for you and Frisk, but I can do this for ya, y'know? I know ya back's been hurtin' from the overload of the holidays, so a new bed'll do ya good." Closing your gaping mouth, Sans took the laptop and grabbed his cellphone, heading back to the living room to make a call. You just sat there with the feline gently nuzzling your stomach, probably trying to make sure you weren't about to have a stroke.

**Author's Note:**

> I might make a long story to go with this one. Make Reader and Sans christen the new bed, hurr hurr.


End file.
